


i only accept the best for myself

by zenonaa



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Pegging, Roleplay, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6227335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“That’s right, I’m guilty of all those things,” he said. “You should punish me.”<br/>Touko jerked her hand back, staring at him. “Eh?”<br/>Her outburst didn’t seem to constitute an answer because he didn’t react, as if waiting for her, so facial features hardened, she asked, “What should I do?”<br/>He waggled his backside at her and replied, “You’re not only a romance writer but a fan of S and M, correct?”</p><p>Togami and Fukawa roleplay a photoshoot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i only accept the best for myself

After spending a minimum of ten minutes browsing through her underwear drawer, Touko tried on a babydoll, amethyst except for its lace trimming at the bottom and the cups, those black like her thong. It wasn’t the thong that she had wanted to pair with this babydoll. The thong that she desired was a lace thong, but she seemed to have misplaced it and so settled with this non-lace one.

Touko focused her eyes on the full length mirror beside their wardrobe as she twisted her body into various poses, starting by draping one arm over the top of her head. She thought of it as their wardrobe, their, because the wardrobe belonged to both her and Byakuya and had done so ever since they began living together.

Interesting though that tidbit was, today wasn’t the anniversary of them cohabiting. Today marked their one year anniversary of being a couple. The material below the breast cup closest to her lifted arm wrinkled while on her other side, it wasn’t creased at all. It was asymmetrical, largely due to her stance. Touko lowered her arm and positioned both of her arms behind her back. She clasped her hands together and slowly inhaled, watching her rib bones become more noticeable. As she breathed out, wrinkles collected again from the waist up of the babydoll.

In the bedroom scenes of the romance novels that she read, the female protagonist’s clothes always fitted in the right places, whatever that meant, but the mirror here gave the impression that she was somehow too fat and too skinny simultaneously even though she was sure she bought the right size. The babydoll clung to her waist but was looser at the back and bottom. She bit on her top lip but as her teeth dragged down it, it almost immediately slipped free. For a few seconds, she reverted to her younger self, the one who secretly bought lingerie with money that should have gone toward food, lingerie that she never intended anyone else to see but herself, that she wore to school on days when she felt particularly ugly and lacking in confidence until she forgot she had gym class one time and all the girls laughed at her lingerie and her teacher told Touko to stick to plain undies from now on. How Touko hadn’t melted back then, with her face burning as uncomfortably hot as it did, was a mystery.

Pale skin peeped out from the vertical slits in the somewhat see-through cups of the baby doll, one present in each cup. At the top of the slits, where the ribbon shoulder straps connected to the cups, were single small bows, identical to the amethyst ribbon between her breasts. On the inner thigh of her left leg, Touko’s scars were visible through the translucent material and Touko nearly yielded to the tautness in her arms, to the pounding of her heart as she yearned to tug the babydoll’s straps off her shoulders.

Touko nearly yielded. Almost.

Despite how much her skin itched, Touko stubbornly ignored the temptation and kept the item of clothing on, arms tightly wrapped around herself, because she couldn’t have been ugly, not when she was the sole person who Byakuya deemed worthy to give his gaze, touch and own body, to, and who made her feel so good about herself. She tore her eyes away from the mirror. Not wanting to keep Byakuya waiting for too long, though he did have his own preparations to preoccupy himself with in the bathroom, she nudged her hip against the underwear drawer built into the wardrobe, closing it, and then walked over to the bed.

There, she sat down, legs crossed and arms loosely folded over her chest, and she called out, “I’m ready.”

The bedroom door opened straight away and Byakuya strode over to her, dressed in a black suit with no tie. He stopped at the bed but didn’t sit down, standing in front of her with a professional coldness in his eyes that someone might deal at a stranger. Touko felt herself smile at his demeanour. A camera hung from a black strap around Byakuya’s neck, and he gripped the camera tightly with one hand. His other hand fidgeted with a lapel of his brown jacket.

“I assume that you’re my client, ‘Touko Fukawa’?” asked Byakuya.

“That’s my name, yes,” she confirmed. She unfolded her arms and stroked her hand down her thigh, balling her hand into a fist at her knee. Meanwhile, her other hand tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Rather than style her hair in braids, she had chosen to wear it down. “I’m... your model...”

“Let’s get this shoot started then,” he said briskly. “We’ll begin with some simple shots, to check that the lighting is appropriate and as a warm up for you.”

“I could do with a warm up.” Touko hunched her shoulders and widened her smile, eyes fixed on his bright blue pair. “I’m b-barely wearing anything and this room is rather cold...”

His expression didn’t change, in character even as she strayed from the script that she typed up a few nights ago on her laptop while he read over her shoulder. He jerked his chin haughtily and clucked his tongue. “Stand up and we’ll go from there.”

Byakuya backed away from the bed, putting distance between them, and aimed his camera at her. Touko climbed off the bed and faced him. She cupped her hand around the elbow of her arm, bare feet flat against the carpet. The camera emitted two faint beeps as he took the first photograph. Her body tensed. Memories of sitting in class teased the corners of Touko’s mind, memories of trying to ignore the giggling of girls who weren’t as discreet as they thought they were, who snapped photos of Touko to share among themselves later. These memories, she forced to fester in those corners of her mind, like the clicking of those girls’ cameras at the edge of her vision, where they would rot into compost and strengthen her with their nutrients. The girls couldn’t be compared to Byakuya, who was in plain sight and whose motives he had made clear with her and who would have told her if she was ugly. He hadn’t.

By the time Byakuya had taken four photographs, her heart no longer felt too big for her chest and her smile thawed into a genuine one.

“I’m aware that I asked for simple shots, but you could try to be creative with your poses,” Byakuya drawled, whose narrowed eyes bored into her wider ones.

Touko poked the tips of her index fingers together. “Th-This is my first photoshoot so I’m not very experienced. If you could show me what sorts of poses you want to photograph, then I might have a better idea on what exactly you wish me to do...”

He pulled a short-lived grimace.

“Tch. Fine.” Byakuya crossed over to her and offered the camera to Touko, which she accepted into her hands, and then he stepped back several paces. For his first pose, Byakuya rested a hand onto his hip and ran his other hand down his chest, stopping at the top of his thigh.

Their gazes clashed together and her body jolted at the rush of heat that his eyes sparked in her, that rolled down her spine and that her thighs twitched at. She sat down onto the bed with a thump and pointed the camera at him, shaking faintly, and snapped a photograph of him.

Byakuya hesitated. Originally, only she was going to be photographed, but he resigned himself to the fact they were improvising, script not relevant anymore. Besides, he was a man who could easily adapt, anyway, so he advanced onto the next pose in fluid motions. He tucked his hands behind his head and puffed out his chest. Touko prodded her glasses up her nose and then squeezed her finger against the round button on top of the camera, capturing the image of him both digitally and in her mind, and he stood still long enough so that while taking the next photograph, her hands by then had steadied so she could take a photograph that was as crisp and sharp as his gaze.

The pose that followed consisted of him bending his upper body forward, hands on his hips. Byakuya stared at her and allowed her to take one photograph before he straightened up. She was about to query him on this but her words died in her throat, eyes trailing after him on his way to the wall nearest to the bed. His back pressed up against the wall and he slid down it, crouching, slouching slightly, knees far apart and arms above his head. He let out a small groan.

Him assuming this stance, fully dressed, induced a quiver in Touko’s groin. The thought of him wearing what she was currently wearing strengthened the quiver and led to her thighs clenching together. Touko ought to have risen and closed in for better photographs, but she didn’t think to take any photographs at all, gawking at him.

“Do you understand now?” he asked, staying as he was.

“You should take your jacket off,” she blurted. She blinked and then slapped on a smirk. “Th-Then I can view your posture better.”

No further convincing was required. Byakuya straightened up, peeled off his jacket and flung it toward the bed. It hit the foot of the bed and tumbled to the floor, but neither paid it any more thought once it landed. He stepped away from the wall and adopted another pose. Touko snapped more photographs, grinning shamelessly as he arched his back and pouted. Next, he swung his hips to one side, both hands on them. She fumbled with the camera in her haste, finger slipping on the button as he hugged himself.

“Those spring to mind as satisfactory poses,” he said. His hands fell away from his chest and he walked over to her, an arm extended out to retrieve the camera.

With reluctance, she returned his camera to him, and she stood up off the bed and watched him tread away from the bed with lazy steps. “Have you ever modelled, Bya - Togami-san?”

“I haven’t,” was his reply. His back stayed toward her.

Touko twiddled her thumbs. “You should. You’re a natural...”

Byakuya shifted his weight between feet. “Let’s focus on what we’re supposed to be doing now, hm? If you just do what I did, you won’t go wrong. Begin with the first pose that I showed you.”

He pivoted on his heel to face her again, camera raised.

“Right...!” Touko nodded. “The first pose you did...”

She pressed her finger against her mouth and peered up at the ceiling. Her brow creased.

“... that was...?” she said slowly.

“Don’t tell me that you forgot,” he said, and he turned his head to one side, staring at her from the corner of his eyes.

“Of course not!” A tremor vibrated in her chest as she tried to remember. Touko could recall all of the poses that he performed, including their minor details like the folds in his trousers that bunched together at the mercy of his strong hands and the subtle sweat beneath his sandy hair. The difficulty lay in sifting through the high definition images that her mind stored for the very first one, and it didn’t help that the pose which she most wanted to perform most was one that he hadn’t, that involved her hand stuffed down the front of her thong.

Her lips thinned in thought. Patience, Touko, she told herself. At the beginning, he set a hand onto his hip and a hand onto the top of his thigh, so that was what she did. His lack of reply informed her that he approved, and that he was taking a photograph of her, and she waited for him to speak.

She didn’t have to wait long.

“Your face is unattractively blank,” he criticised. “Allow emotion to radiate from it or else I may keel over from boredom.”

Right. He had modelled with an intensity in his countenance which flared inside her core. Touko’s face scrunched up in concentration, attempting to mimic how he had conducted himself.

“That looks equally unsightly,” commented Byakuya.

How brazen of him. A smirk tweaked at the ends of her lips. “Perhaps you should come over and mold my face with your hands...”

“There!” His body leaped into activity, finger jabbing at the capture button on the camera. “That’s exactly how you need to look.”

Touko’s mouth fluttered agape but she recollected herself quickly and reformed her smirk. “If you want me to look like that, I’m going to have to keep to this train of thought going.”

“Yes, yes.” He waved his free hand. “Whatever you require. Next pose, please.”

She placed her hands behind her head and thrust out her chest. “Since you said ‘please’...”

Byakuya voiced no further complaints as she progressed through the poses. When Touko arrived at the last pose, she eased her back down the wall as he had done minutes prior, legs splayed out so he had an unobstructed view of her lingerie. He dropped to one knee, drastically shifting to another perspective for the next round of photographs, and the grin that she cracked threatened to shatter her face.

“I would open my legs out more, but they’re already wide enough for you to fit between,” she said, end of her index finger pressed against her lips. She widened her eyes for a moment, then seconds later she let her eyes relax and pushed more of her finger into her mouth.

He snapped another photograph before lowering the camera. “I’ve acquired enough photographs of you away from the bed.”

No more needed to be alluded to for her to understand. Touko jumped up, darted over to the bed and fell back into it. The springs in the mattress creaked beneath her and creaked again as Byakuya popped into Touko’s vision. He planted his hands either side of her shoulders, not holding the camera in them and it didn’t dangle from his neck either, but Touko was in no rush to find out where he had discarded it for the time being and so she lay still, with Byakuya stationed between her legs that were wide enough for him to fit between.

“This will be a suitable position,” he murmured. Byakuya shifted as he grabbed the camera, which he had set down nearby on the bed. To Touko’s disappointment, he rose to take more photographs, pulling at the invisible strings connecting them. Touko couldn’t tell whether the emotion showed on her face as he snapped some more photographs, crawling back so he could take photographs of the rest of her body. He retreated no further past her feet and once there, knelt and took another picture, and then again, and then he opened his mouth to say something and she met his eyes, but he said nothing and tossed the camera to the bed. It thumped twice.

Rather than speak, he leaned over and seized her wrists. Byakuya arranged her arms so they were above her head. She breathed loudly as she watched his chest while he finalised their position. When he was done, he drifted back so his face hovered over hers, hovering close, sharing carbon dioxide. He whipped off his glasses and touched his hand to her cheek, other hand removing her glasses. Their glasses were cast aside, probably still on the bed.

Both without their glasses now, he dipped down that little bit extra distance, hands holding her cheeks, and he kissed her on the lips.

She inhaled through her nose, smelling citrus, and though she couldn’t see her face, she knew it to be pink. It felt pink, flushed into rose, and its pleasant warmth flowed into the rest of her body. Her hands found his upper arms and she grasped them, him, scratching at his shirt sleeves just hard enough for the action to be discerned. The fabric rustled in short whispers and so did her hair between his fingers, that had left her face and weaved through her hair, retracing old ground. Both of them moved, continuously, bodies lapping at each other, lips rolling over the other’s until he bit into her bottom lip. A hum buzzed through her lips that she parted as she closed her eyes fully, mouth filled with his hot breath that tasted of this morning’s coffee masked by mint, heart beating fast.

His tongue hit against her teeth and then slipped into her mouth. Touko’s arms and legs wound around him tightly, pulling him closer, the buttons of his shirt digging into her a bit despite her babydoll. Byakuya shifted, leaving a gap between them so he could unfasten his buttons, and then he lowered himself again. Their noses bumped together by accident so Byakuya tilted his head and descended again, fitting his lips against hers. Reunited with his warmth, she sighed into his mouth. Her hands wandered up to the back of his head, palms against his soft hair, but she soon relocated them to his hips.

Something hard rubbed against her inner thigh. He seemed to notice too and broke away from the kiss. She opened her eyes, confused.

“You had some moisture on your lips,” he explained with a faint smirk. His words pelted her in puffs of air. Byakuya rose higher and her limbs fell back onto the bed, but his fingers remained in her hair. He added, “It created too much glare.”

Touko squinted. Without her glasses, his blond hair melded with the white ceiling. Though she desperately wanted to shoot a hand up to the bulge that had grazed against her during his so-called clean up session, that she knew to be between his legs, she reminded herself to be patient.

“My other lips have some moisture on them too,” she said, matching his grin.

Absorbing it, even, because his grin vanished from his face.

Byakuya went, “Hm?” and disentangled his fingers from her hair. His hand glided down her body, swimming across her babydoll, and upon reaching the uppermost part of her thong, he dived his hand under the babydoll so he could touch her thong directly. This time, where it was damp with her excitement.

She shivered, feeling him press his thumb against the clothed crevice between her legs, against where she ached, where she craved for the pressure trapped inside to be released rather than what his action achieved - a steady throbbing. Her thighs twitched in what felt like jarring, obvious movements, and she clutched one of her breasts and squeezed.

“You’re right,” he said quietly. His touch pulsed against her, falling into a rhythm. “It’s damp... We can’t have that.”

“N-No, w-we can’t,” she agreed.

“I’m going to have to clean this up too,” he told her.

Byakuya hooked his fingers around the band of her thong and wrenched it down. It couldn’t travel very far, not with her body weighing down on the bed, so she hiked up her bottom and legs up temporarily, feet pinned to the mattress, so he could pull her thong down more easily. Touko kicked up her feet when her thong was someway down her legs, and she flumped back into the bed once he had thrown her thong to the floor and secured his hands onto her thighs.

He pushed on her thighs to spread them further apart, as they had closed toward the end of her thong being plucked off, and he shuffled back a bit so he could lie on his front. His hands adjusted her legs so her legs were bent, not straight, either side of him, and he kissed her inner thigh. She shuddered, prompting him to hold onto both of her legs tighter, and she strained her neck as she sat up as much as she could in order to watch him. Well, as much as she could without her glasses on. Her lower body burned as Byakuya neglected the trapped pressure inside her core, instead kissing her thighs, and she freed the breast that she had been squeezing so it was as naked and exposed as her crotch. The more he kissed, the longer the next kiss was from the one before, and he didn’t revert to his original pace when he swapped legs, nuzzling her other thigh with a few, though deep kisses.

Touko buried her fingers in his hair and whined. She gave her breast a hard squeeze, the pulsating in her lower stomach present in her thighs too, and clamped his head between her thighs. Byakuya’s eyelashes fluttered. He released one of her thighs and began to massage his thumb against the hood of skin where her lower lips converged at the top. Whining louder, she tugged on his hair, but he didn’t complain. In fact, it spurred him on, how Touko’s body squirmed, how she desperately sought his touches, and he replaced his thumb with two fingers that rubbed hard, that slipped a bit as her fluids reduced the friction.

She threw her head back, thwacking it into the bed. His hair tickled her legs, nearer to her knees than she wanted him to be, nearer to her knees than to where his fingers rubbed her. A feeble “B-Byakuya-sama,” escaped from her lips, the name bypassing the part of her mind that knew she didn’t use the honorific these days because they were a couple.

“That’s a good look,” he said, voice rumbling, and Touko knew what he planned to do next.

His free hand, not the hand tending to her throbbing but the one still on her thigh, picked up the camera. She breathed too loud and her chest heaved too much for Touko to hear him take any photographs, and besides, her gaze was aimed upward, not at him, but he alerted her that he had finished with the camera for now by returning his missing hand to her thigh and pushing his lips into her.

Regardless of how hot she was down there, the temperature of his tongue was more so. Energy like electricity zapped through her lower body. Touko moaned and jerked her hips, grinding her backside against the bed, grinding Byakuya’s face against her crotch, her hair down there trimmed the previous day. This, he met with some resistance, stiffening until she relaxed a bit. Then he teased with licks that barely touched but touched enough to remind her of the roaring in her core. Her wiggling calmed, eventually, but not totally, lower body tingling.

Byakuya swiped his tongue through her building liquids, licking rougher. She heard it, him, felt him, and her body quaked, and her hand in his hair constricted like her muscles. He slurped up her juices, making the kind of noise he would scold the instigator for if at the dinner table, and the kind of noise that caused her thighs to spasm and for more liquid to leak out. His tongue was flexible, superior in this regard to his finger and another part of him that she nonetheless loved to have inside of her the most, and his tongue thrashed against her, gathering as much of what her body had to offer as he could into his mouth. Gulping and huffing through his nose, each abrupt sound from him played over a constant crackling caused by his wet lips.

Touko pinched her erect nipple and murmured his name, or something similar. Byakuya’s tongue circled her entrance. She gasped. He charged his tongue into her and Touko’s breath dissolved into a sigh. The pads of his fingers rubbed above his mouth still, two fingers, while his tongue thrust in and out of Touko and lapped up her fluids. Saliva, sweat and her own body’s lubricant sputtered in his mouth. Moaning, Touko tried to prise open her eyes but the effort wasn’t worth it. All she glimpsed was a single colour, possibly white, so intense that she shut her eyes again, dizzy. It was the kind of dizzy that someone experienced riding up a steep roller coaster due to anticipation of what was to come, the fall, the journey down.

He withdrew his mouth and hand, panting, but didn’t give Touko the chance to realise what had happened and why she could feel cool air down there. As he inched a short way up her body, his nose brushed against her, and the warmth of his lips engulfed where his fingers had kneaded her. One of those fingers slipped inside of her and crooked in a consistent cadence as he searched for the spot located in the slick heat in her that, when he struck it, she gave a loud moan at. Her ankles crossed over behind his neck, legs gripping him to a near suffocating degree. She heard squelching. His lips sucked and his teeth nibbled her throbbing bud, and a firmer bite sent her into convulsions. The entirety of her body shook and as nothing stopped her from reaching her peak, the pressure inside of her exploded into pure relief and she screamed as she plummeted back down.

When feeling had returned to her shaking body, Touko relinquished her hold on Byakuya’s hair. He hoisted himself up.

Her hand smacked down against her crotch, arm limp.

“I believe that I’ve procured plenty of photographs that meet my standards,” said Byakuya. She heard clattering and moments later, he set her glasses onto her face, restoring her vision. Byakuya was already wearing his own.

His face was very pink.

Touko sat up and remembered they had been roleplaying. Still were.

“W-We still have some time left,” she said, not completely sure if what she just stated made any sense within the context of what they were doing. She tucked her breast back into its cup. “I mean, we still have some time left in this time slot. We finished early and... and you said you haven’t modelled before. If you modelled now, I could take photographs of you...”

For good measure, she batted her eyelashes at him.

“It would be a waste of an opportunity if you didn’t try because you are so pleasing to the eye,” she added.

His brow furrowed.

“This is my last appointment for today,” he said. “You have already taken several pictures of me but none of me on the bed, so that is where I should be for the next ones.”

She pounced on the camera by his knees and snatched it up. “Get on all fours.” The curt tone that she used made herself cringe. “P-Please.”

Byakuya smirked. “Since you said ‘please’...”

He positioned himself onto his hands and knees as instructed, facing the headboard of the bed. Touko knelt behind him and without initiating any physical contact between them, ghosted her hands around his rear, wearing the camera strap around her neck. Between his legs were many folds, but she admired them only briefly. Where his trousers lay smooth, devoid of creases on his two cheeks, held her attention for longer.

It didn’t occur to her to breathe as she reached around him and unbuckled his belt. She struggled, scrabbling at it for a few seconds, but succeeded in unfastening it. Pushing the button above his fly out of its hole proved more challenging, however, and was something that Byakuya ended up doing himself, but after those two things had been accomplished, his hands dropped back to the bed, she unzipped his trousers and his trousers fell to his knees with no trouble.

Touko squinted at the black lace thong he was wearing. The thong that she had been wearing during this session had either disappeared to the floor or clung to the edge of the bed, but wherever hers was, it was as absent from her vision as it was from her mind. His thong had her attention. It appeared to dig into him a bit, as if too small, and she peeled it away from his skin so she could read the label for the size and brand.

“These are mine,” she said, and she let go so the thong pinged back.

He gave a short hum.

She stretched her lips into a coy smile.

“That’s naughty... Y-You snooped through my drawer for these...” Her fingers stroked up the back of his left leg. Up to the curve of his bottom. “... and not only that, but you got them all dirty with your excitement.”

“That’s right, I’m guilty of all those things,” he said. “You should punish me.”

Touko jerked her hand back, staring at him. “Eh?”

Her outburst didn’t seem to constitute an answer because he didn’t react, as if waiting for her, so facial features hardened, she asked, “What should I do?”

He waggled his backside at her and replied, “You’re not only a romance writer but a fan of S and M, correct?”

“S.M,” she articulated, because only amateurs referred to it in the way in which he had. A self-proclaimed masochist such as herself already knew a fair amount about this topic, even if she didn’t personally have any experience in it other than daydreams and password protected folders on her laptop. “BDSM, like links in a chain. The first link, B.D, stands for bondage and discipline. D.S, the next link, stands for dominance and submission. Finally, sadism and masochism, the last link, S.M. Despite these being collected together under an umbrella term, not all of those in the BDSM community belong to every subculture, often preferring to take part in one or two, and many omit the ampersand between the terms.”

She pulled the thong down to Byakuya’s knees, not faltering as she continued her informal lesson on BDSM.

“In the brain, the pleasure and pain pathways exist close together,” she said, one of her hands wandering over his beautifuly toned, naked rear. “Therefore, when done correctly, pain can feel pleasurable...”

“Spank me,” he said in a low, seductive whisper.

Touko drew her hand back and then swung it forward, striking him on one cheek. The harsh sound of skin smacking into skin rang out. He heaved out a strangled moan, arms almost buckling underneath him.

“Byakuya!” she said, horrified, having got distracted by her own rambling. She jumped a little and the camera banged against her chest, but she didn’t care. Her body gave a strong shake and she grabbed her hair in both hands. “D-Did that hurt? Did I hurt... you? I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry, sor - ”

“Was that really only worthy of a mere tap?” he asked, still on all fours, still facing away.

She froze, eyes wide, fingers lodged in her hair.

“Well? Was it?” he said.

“Didn’t that hurt?” she asked in a tiny voice, ignoring his question but not on purpose.

He looked at her from over his shoulder as he answered. “It’s as you just said. ‘The pleasure and pain pathways exist close together’. Trust me, I’m capable of enduring a lot more than this.”

“You want me to do it again?” she asked, insides quivering.

The corners of his lips curled upward, rendering all other possible answers redundant. Touko took a hand out of her hair and readied it for another blow. Byakuya turned his head around so he faced forward again. She chewed on her lip, not knowing how to feel about this. Inflicting pain on her darling definitely wasn’t something that she enjoyed, but could she really label what she was doing as simply inflicting pain? What she derived pleasure from was him feeling pleasure. His limbs wobbled though they wobbled less as he recovered and they didn’t wobble from exertion. Not solely, at least, and he seemed to be waiting for her hand to come down on him again.

With this in mind, she slapped him again, in the same place as before, and he yelped, teetering but not collapsing from the impact. His vocalisation waned into a groan that she gave a coquettish smile at.

“You’re naughty for liking this,” she said and she carried on, wincing less at the sound of her hand smacking into his backside as time went on, coming to enjoy how he seemed to gag on nothing but his own noises.

A pink mark developed on him where she spanked him that, when she paused to look at it, brought to her attention the stinging in her palm. Touko decided it a good idea not to home in on that particular spot for much longer. If her hand felt like this, she could only imagine how much it stung there on him. She jiggled her wrist and glanced back at the mark. Inspired, she raised the camera with her other hand and took a photograph of his pink patch before smacking him again. Byakuya pushed his face into the mattress and shoved the rest of his body back toward her for the next one, rebounding at all the smacks that followed.

Unfortunately, now that his face was against the bed, it meant his vocalisations were muffled. The tingling in her hand increased and when she had enough, rather than swap hands, she caressed the patches of pink in his skin that had bloomed under the heat from her hand, in the burning rays that each smack had left. He trembled and she could feel the lingering shocks that she sent through him. She snapped another photograph.

“Such strength,” she cooed, trying to replenish his energy by feeding him encouragement. Touko dragged her thumb to the centre of his behind, to the crack, and slipped her thumb between his cheeks. Starting at the top, her thumb slowly slid downward, stopping when her nail hit against something hard. Something plastic.

She contorted her face into one of shock, an effort wasted on him what with his own face squashed against the bed so he couldn’t see her, and she spread his cheeks apart with both hands.

“What’s this?” she asked loudly. Touko scraped her nail against the blue plug that she had stumbled across. “Have you been wearing it all this time?”

‘All this time’ being ever since he inserted it into himself in the bathroom while she was choosing what lingerie to wear.

An answer was unnecessary but he nodded, too winded to speak.

“Give me a few seconds to get ready for the next bit, darling,” said Touko, and she bobbed her head down to peck him on the biggest patch of pinkened skin. He grunted against the mattress.

Touko scampered across the bed, almost losing her balance on the way, but she managed to avoid toppling off sideways with a few erratic lurches and reached the bedside cabinet casualty-free. From the top drawer, she pulled out everything that they would need for what, she assumed, was the finale. She tossed a bottle of water-based lubricant onto the bed, then a leather harness, and then a condom. The fourth and final item, she extracted with care, and she sat down on the bed, item resting in her palms, and looked at it as if the ceiling had parted and a beam of light from the sky shone down on it.

Byakuya lifted his face from the bed, adjusted his glasses and spoke. “That’s not lifelike at all.”

His voice plucked Touko out of her thoughts, thoughts dominated by the pink object cradled in her hands.

“The box said it is,” she said.

“It’s bright pink,” he said from over his shoulder.

She swiveled toward him to give him a better view of the dildo.

“Its shaft is textured,” she said, and she started pumping its ridged length slowly with one hand.

“And pink,” said Byakuya. He twisted around to face her and sat down, one leg drawn up toward his chest and the other leg, the one closest to Touko, he folded underneath himself.

Touko’s hand stopped just shy of dildo’s swollen, rounded head.

“It feels like an actual penis...” She tucked her chin into her neck and smirked. “I-I should know, because I’ve had plenty of experience touching one... ”

The one that she had in mind happened to be on display, and she peeked over at it. To think there had been a time when she would scream in a combination of surprise but mostly delight whenever she saw it. These days, she just licked her lips or drooled. Or both.

He felt her stare and sniffed. “Yet it appears you’ve forgotten that mine isn’t silicon.”

She fixed on a mock pout and fondled the dildo’s balls. “You sound like you don’t want it in you, darling...”

Byakuya flinched but spoke next with bravado. “I do want it in me. That’s why you should hurry up.”

“M-Maybe... if you say please...”

“I’m not going to beg, Touko,” he said.

Touko waited. Byakuya moved back onto all fours again.

“... Please prepare that thing so we can get started,” he finally said.

He hadn’t really begged but as tempting as the idea of him begging was, his words were spoken with a firmness that she doubted would budge, so she complied. She pushed the dildo through the ring in the front of harness and stood up so she could step into it and buckle herself up.

That done, she mounted the bed again and stationed herself behind Byakuya. Touko rolled the condom onto the end of the dildo and applied a small amount of lubricant to her fingers on one hand. With her other hand, she pulled the butt plug out of him, easy enough to do with the object’s flared base. A shiver erupted across Touko’s skin at the sight before her, that she wanted to squeal at, but she subdued the instinct to do so and gave just a light giggle. She squirted a much more liberal quantity of lubricant around his hole, around where she would be inserting into him, and brought forward the hand that she lubricated.

The camera knocked against her chest as she trailed her middle finger up and down his crack. Taking a photograph passed her mind and she almost dismissed it, but as she pressed her middle finger against his hole, she changed her mind and snapped a single picture of him. Touko removed the camera strap from around her neck and threw the camera to the side. Her lubricated middle finger slipped inside of him, up to its second joint, and he gasped, clenching, but not enough to hurt. Within seconds, he relaxed, breathing out slowly, and she began to drive her finger back and forth.

“How does it feel?” she asked.

“Different,” was his terse reply.

From how his body had ceased resisting her finger, letting it explore without clamping down, she gauged him ready for another finger. Touko added in her index finger and his muscles squeezed her digits, like before, but also relaxed, like before. She beamed and whirled her fingers in a small circular motion in him, other hand stroking his erect member. He groaned, shuddering. The more she fingered him, the more his body accepted her, pulsing less intensely and frequently as he familiarised with the sensation of a foreign unit wriggling inside that part of him.

Holding her breath, she pulled her fingers out of him and curled them around the base of the dildo, her other hand at the top of his leg now, and she rubbed the tip of the dildo up and down his crack, smearing it in more lubricant. Touko exhaled. Occasionally, she would pause as she added more lubricant from the bottle, teasing the dildo against his entrance at these pit stops. His backside ended up slathered in it.

She waited until the tension, anxiety, if a man like Byakuya could feel anxiety, no, he could, and he might have even now - she waited until they had drained from his body before she eased her way forward, into him, with a gradual but still existent pressure that pushed through his muscular walls.

Byakuya cried out and clawed at the bed sheet as he clenched around the dildo, hindering her movement. He breathed loudly, and when he had relaxed again and she couldn’t see tension in his form, she delayed herself a few seconds more before she crept the dildo forward.

His head jerked, jouncing his glasses so they became lopsided, and she paused, but he seemed okay, so she continued forward, both hands on his hips. Unable to feel how Byakuya’s body reacted through the dildo, she primarily relied on watching him for any changes no matter how perceptible to know when to stop and start. Initially, Touko restrained herself to thrusting at shallow depths. The thought of launching into him had its appeal. She couldn’t deny that. Her darling, groping at the mattress, howling and drooling as she rammed into him so hard that he would only be able to see stars, submerged in pure ecstasy. What didn’t appeal to Touko was her accidentally tearing him, causing injuries that didn’t cross in the pleasure and pain pathways in his brain, so as much as she fiercely wished to see him unravel, chin streaked with saliva, she would take her time.

Over the next minute, the number of times his body seized up dwindled as did the frequency, and she always ensured that he wasn’t rigid when she started moving again. Their rhythm, steady, deliberate, evolved with familiarity, and she held on tighter, and he moaned more than he grunted, and they sweated and panted together.

Byakuya groaned as the dildo pushed in as far as it would go. His body froze but soon melted in arousal’s heat. She drew back a bit and then pushed forward again, pressing the balls of the dildo against him.

“You’re doing so well. You got it all the way in, darling,” she said as she withdrew, this time so the dildo left him entirely.

Not for too long though. Touko covered him and the dildo in some more lubricant and as she entered him again, she wondered how she would be feeling if the dildo was part of her body. Fingering him earlier had given her a very rough idea. Back then, it felt like his muscles were sucking on her digits, almost like he was inviting her in. Had that been a more sensitive part of her... the thought flooded warmth onto her already burning face and her legs twitched.

“You’re so strong,” she told him. She reached an arm forward and claimed his length in her clammy fist, and she began to stroke him up and down.

He whimpered wordlessly, glasses askew. Touko rubbed harder, rocking into him, and he started to sway too, pushing into her when she pushed into him and pulling away as she did, bouncing off the other. Never to the extent that the dildo fell out of him completely. That, Touko ensured, as she dug her knees firmly into the bed and held onto him tightly.

“I’m so lucky to be with someone as incredible as you,” she said, the bridge of her glasses lower down her nose than she preferred, but she didn’t correct the position. “I’ve heard some of the... g-girls in my department gossip about it during breaks... They all fancy you...”

The last part tasted bitter on her tongue.

Byakuya spoke back through bared teeth. “L-Luck... had nothing to do with it...”

His breathing was ragged.

“I... only... ch-choose the finest quality...!” He bucked into her, forcing her to let go of his length. Touko patted him down, trying to find it again, lower stomach sore where he barged into her. When she found it, she grasped him hard, hand wet and him wet too. Her other hand nudged up her glasses.

Unlike the dildo, Byakuya wasn’t comprised of silicon, no part of him was but also not down there, and he had the capacity to feel. Byakuya throbbed in her hand, heavy, every lurch from his pelvis accompanied by fractured moans that he choked out. His muscles contracted, in rapid-fire, but he was determined not to idle, so they moved, moved, moved.

“I only accept the b-best... for myself... T-Touko... so I... chose you. I... ack..!”

Moved, moved, moved.

“What is it, Byakuya?” she asked, but she knew. Touko knew, she knew, she knew.

No words. A moan ripped free from his body. She slid her hand up to his tip, not quite catching what spurted out, only some of it, and his shuddering broke him loose of her hand’s hold so the rest of what he ejaculated splattered onto the bed.

His face slammed into the mattress as he lay down.

Her only regret was that she hadn’t been able to see his face. Oh well. Next time. At least she could see how much she had stretched him out, once she pulled the dildo out of him.

Touko licked her hand. A quick glance at him informed her that Byakuya just needed a little while to recuperate, so she got off the bed and stripped herself of the harness. Her movements were sluggish and she realised that she was quite tired. She rubbed her knuckles against her eyes and deposited the harness and dildo at the end of the bed, intending to clean and store them away later, and sat down beside Byakuya’s head. Gently, with her cleaner hand, she combed her fingers through his hair.

“Do you want to go to the bathroom?” she asked.

Byakuya mumbled. Touko swooped down and kissed him on the cheek.

“I prepared snacks too,” she added in a singsong voice. She sat up and wiggled her shoulders. “I’ll feed you some candy when you come back.”

He lifted his flushed face off the bed. “You’ll wash yours hands first, I assume.”

“O-Of course,” she promised. “I’ll go to the bathroom after you and wash them... unless you want me to tag along?”

“... I’ll manage by myself,” he replied, dashing her hopes. He tiredly rose and hobbled over to the bedroom door, groaning weakly, tugging up his thong and trousers along the way.

Touko turned her attention away from her handiwork, soon hidden by his clothes and then by the door, and focused on the bed, on the mess that Byakuya left behind. Sweat. Saliva. Other. She spotted the camera on the floor. It must have fallen off the bed. Smiling, she jogged her glasses up, picked the camera up and browsed through it. When she scrolled to the last picture, one of him from behind with her finger stroking him, she considered it not very flattering and deleted it.

Still. All in all, a successful photoshoot.

**Author's Note:**

> if only i could get paid to write smut lol


End file.
